


Give and Take

by Xenobotanist



Series: Garak Bashir Kinktober 2020 [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Ajanal Fingering, Cardassian Anatomy, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Vers Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: Garak gets a little riled up when Julian takes charge.Kinktober: Oral sex, Intercrural sex, Light dom/sub
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Garak Bashir Kinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985425
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	Give and Take

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of still Kinktober, but all my others are from Julian's point of view and this one is Garak's, so it's an impulsive stand-alone. The rest of the Julian ones are still in the works, because they actually have a story involved.

Garak had wanted Julian since early that morning. He’d had the door open to his shop and heard the raised voices from down the promenade invade the room. Stepping out, he found Julian outside of the infirmary, giving a thorough dressing-down to none other than Gul Dukat for the danger he’d put his men in. Men who were now fighting for their lives in surgery, missing limbs and covered in blistering burns. 

And then Captain Sisko and Constable Odo had approached, suggesting diplomacy and a calmer attitude, and he’d rounded on _them_. Their own reluctance to believe the Gul’s distress call and allow him to make berth had cost the lives of two crewmen and left another three in critical condition. 

Before any of his superiors got a word in edgewise, he’d stalked off back into his domain to oversee and aid the nurses and doctors hard at work.

Garak’s blood had simmered and roiled at the display of overt aggression. It wasn’t often his lover let loose the bonds of his righteous anger, but when he did… it was a sight to behold.

He’d spent the rest of the day replaying the tableau in his mind. The blaze of the doctor’s eyes, the flash of his teeth as he spat out his disdain, the set of his shoulders and his angrily stabbing finger. 

It was enough to drive a man to distraction.

He hardly got any work done, and was probably less than cordial to a few of his customers, but he knew that Quark and Morn wouldn’t take their business elsewhere.

Even so, he stayed late, far later than normal, working on commissions and balancing his budget. He wasn’t above the occasional masochistic self-denial. By the time he made his way home to their shared quarters, he was practically thrumming with tension and arousal.

Julian was already in bed, propped up and reading something on his padd. He glanced up and gave a distracted smile before turning back to the screen.

Garak stalked to the foot of the bed and began stripping. He unclasped and unwound his tunic, letting it slide to the floor. 

The human quirked one eyebrow at the uncommon display of carelessness but remained silent.

Garak released and shucked his pants, which dropped down around his ankles. He stared at the man who appeared to be steadfastly ignoring him and debated about what move to make next. He settled on peeling off his thermal undershirt and leggings. Stepping out of the pile of garments on the floor, he shoved them to one side with his foot and stood there, naked and waiting, the region between his legs warming up to a gentle throb.

Julian set the padd in this lap and tilted his head. “Is something on your mind, love?”

Surely he couldn’t miss the swelling of Garak’s neck ridges, or the blue flush that had likely crept into his crests. Or the coiled muscles underneath his bare scales. 

But his face was impassive and questioning, as if they were discussing what to eat over a table in the replimat.

Perhaps he was in a mood too.

Garak clambered onto the bed and crawled over Julian’s legs before removing the padd from his grip and plopping it onto the nightstand. He straddled the doctor’s waist and tried to ignore the glide of silk against his ajan. It heated between them, slick and thin like a second skin.

His lover was wearing the white pair of nightclothes, the ones that required delicate care, and could be stained easily. Garak had made the outfit for the express purpose of torturing both of them. All it would take was one bodily fluid, from saliva to sweat to any number of less chaste secretions, and the ensemble would be ruined.

To make it worse, the snowy material set off Julian’s tan skin with ruthless efficiency. The contrast between pale, shimmering fabric and dusky, velvety hide was blatant and bewitching. Especially when he left the neck undone, open and revealing the fine hairs that scattered across his chest.

But at the moment, all Garak wanted to do was rip it to shreds.

Julian set his hands on Garak’s ridge-lined hips and let his fingers play over the buttocks. Whispers and tingles shivered through the tailor, and he wiggled just slightly. 

They stared into each other’s eyes, letting the pressure build and daring the other to make a move first. 

Garak ran a finger lazily down the unadorned throat, watched the frantic pulse that beat under his finger and the bob of the adam’s apple as Julian swallowed. He was practically burning up inside now, desperate to stimulate his seam or just outright evert and begin rutting. But his lover’s grip had tightened around his waist, effectively tethering him in place. His lips parted on their own, allowing a small gasp to escape and then draw in a breath positively swarming with their combined pheromones.

Julian’s eyes narrowed, hooded and ponderous. He lifted Garak’s hips up and started to slide downward, lowering with little shimmies.

Garak watched as the man’s body disappeared between his legs. Julian snaked his arms and twisted his shoulders through the gap and brought his hands back up from behind to brace the tailor in place. 

Trapped on his knees, Garak grabbed at the headboard to steady himself. They’d never tried this angle before, and he felt a twinge of self-consciousness, but it flew out the window when he caught Julian’s wolfish and hungry grin as he pressed his face into Garak’s slit.

He nuzzled at it first, his nose and lips brushing tantalizingly over the semi-sensitive scales, a faint tickle that was more taunting than rousing. He placed a few innocent kisses on each side, smiling to himself when Garak made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “My hands are busy at the moment. Maybe you could help?”

Garak wasn’t in the habit of touching himself for an audience, and he gaped for a moment before hesitantly reaching down to his ajan. He ran his fingers over it shyly. When Julian licked his lips at the sight, he grew braver. His thumb wandered up to rub in the hollow of his lowest crest, setting a small fire behind the scales. Straightening his fingers, he dipped them inside himself and then split them open in a V, spreading the ridges of his entrance.

Julian hummed appreciatively before returning his mouth to its endeavor. His tongue darted out between the folds, delving in and out at a steady pace. Garak watched the obscene movements in an enthralled trance. Sparks and jolts radiated from their point of contact, magnified by the visual of that dark pink organ entering him. The human poked his tongue in toward the bottom of the crevice and dragged it up slowly, laving the slick walls with attention.

Garak tried not to buck, as he didn’t want to lose one second of contact. But he also wanted so much more. He wanted a rougher touch, a deeper ache, to slither down that limber torso and grind against it until one of them was driven into a frenzy and plunged into the other.

Except for one thing.

He was sufficiently stimulated at this point that he’d begun to leak from his ajan, lubricating his insides for either penetration or eversion. If he slid down Julian now, he’d leave a trail along that pristine, perfectly tailored shirt.

What a dilemma.

Never one to turn down a challenge, and well aware of his manual dexterity, he released the headboard and reached down behind himself. With quick and nimble fingers, he began undoing the buttons to Julian’s nightshirt.

The face in his ajan puffed out a breath of laughter. “That tickles,” the human mumbled.

“My other hand is busy at the moment. Maybe you could help?” Garak echoed back.

Julian let go of his hips and began undoing the garment. Now freed, Garak started running his fingers through the head of dark brown hair in front of him. He opened himself wider, panting. If only that tongue would-- yes, do that.

Julian had shifted just slightly under him, raising his head high enough for his nose to swipe over Garak’s lower crest. From this vantage, he was able to lick into the top of the ajan, where his tongue found the nestled prUt and began to lap at it.

Garak choked on a gasp and doubled over, grasping back at the headboard. The embers burning inside him suddenly flared into an inferno as the tip began to emerge and Julian sucked it greedily into his mouth. The Cardassian everted nearly against his will, slipping out of his sheath and into the hot, wet chamber eagerly waiting. The angle was low and awkward and didn’t allow him to evert fully. He groaned at the suckling embrace that was so pleasurable but still not enough. His baser instincts whispered in his ear, taunted him with the mental picture of grabbing a tight hold of that gorgeous head and fucking into it until he came. But he abstained. 

Julian finished unbuttoning his shirt and reached up from behind Garak to take hold of his hips. But instead of dragging the man down his body, he just dug his fingers into the tender flesh of the groin, pulling and pushing at the tissues to make his ajan open and close. The tailor whined at the pulsing sensation of his entrance while the top of his member was still treated to the oral massage. 

The base of his prUt ached with the need for touch. Thus far it had been ignored and he was of half a mind to push Julian’s face out of the way and literally take action into his own hands.

He wasn’t one to beg, he would never plead, but a single word spilled from his lips. “ _Julian…”_

The man pulled back, eyes smoky. He let the alien cock out of his mouth with a soft pop. “Yes, Elim?”

Garak let out a shaky breath. “I want… I need…”

Julian pursed his lips and considered him pensively. And removed himself completely, maneuvering out from under Garak.

Before the tailor could turn around in consternation, the human rose up behind him and pushed up against his back. One hand started rubbing at a neck ridge, the other joined his on the headboard. “I saw you watching me this morning, out on the promenade,” Julian murmured in his ear. A chill raced down Garak’s back. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

The tailor nodded. 

Julian ran a hand up his arm, then down his side where it paused. “You like it when I’m forceful. When I take charge.”

Another nod.

The hand trailed down his leg, then pushed it inward, along with the other one, until both of Garak’s thighs were touching. “Keep this position,” Julian ordered. “And don’t let go.”

His hand wrapped around the bobbing prUt and started a slow, rhythmic milking. He clenched at the base and squeezed gradually tighter at it progressed toward the tapered tip, then coursed back down again. A little twist kindled the irllun, then moved back up again.

Julian used his other hand on himself, and Garak could feel it jerk a few times before pointing it forward and then guiding it between his legs. It wasn’t long enough to enter him from this angle, but it just swiped over the skin below the ajan. He rumbled pleasantly, making a few test thrusts and wriggling a little.

But he wasn’t finished yet. His remaining hand left Garak’s to trace a line down the center of his chest, then around his prUt and quite abruptly into his cleft. What felt like electricity shot into his core and he jolted against Julian’s body. And then… _then_ the human nibbled on his neck. 

Garak yelped out as tongues of fire lapped at his nethers and a hot mouth covered scale after scale.

Julian began plunging between his legs while his hands worked at both Garak’s cock and ajan, all while gently gnawing along the neck ridge. The Cardassian was suddenly thankful for the metal in his grip as every stroke and caress drove him mad with desire. He rocked weakly forward and back in Julian’s arms, head bowed at the onslaught.

“Are you getting close?” the human asked breathily into his skin.. 

“Y-yes, my dear.”

“Mmm, good. You feel so good. I wonder, though…” He straightened up, stretching Garak out. “Could you reach around behind me? With both hands.” The tailor did as told. “Yes, and grab my arse. Tight. Perfect.”

Julian sped up his hand on the prUt, pumping harder and faster, and the fingers in Garak’s ajan plunged in and out. He thrust between the thighs roughly, grunting between the teeth clamped around the Cardassian’s neck.

Arched with his lover behind him, there was naught for Garak to do but hold on and ride out the episode as wave after wave of raw and gnawing surges built within him. He let his head fall back and panted heavily toward the ceiling as the alien body around him worked its sorcery on his senses. It started with a few sharp spikes in his member, then a prickle in his slit and a trickle of something molten in his shoulder, and then it all coalesced and ignited into a supernova in his lower belly, stealing his breath as he cried out hoarsely and his release surged out onto Julian’s hands and the bed.

Still trembling, the human bent him over hurriedly, petting and stroking down his back before realigning his cock underneath and then up into Garak’s wet entrance. He sank in with a hiss and moan, then grabbed his hips to yank them back and forth as he plunged in swiftly and sloppily until seizing up and cursing as he came.

Garak lowered himself to his elbows and buried his face in the pillow. He had never been so roughly handled, so _used_ , and it had been absolutely marvelous. To let someone else take the lead, to dominate him… oh, he could get used to this. He turned his head to the side to draw in a breath, then flattened himself after Julian pulled out.

His mate plopped down beside him and heaved a sigh. “Well, that was something.” He turned his head to meet Garak’s eyes. “What did you think? Was it okay?”

“Oh, my dear. It was more than okay. Feel free to repeat this as often as you feel necessary.”

Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? You liked it that much?”

“Let’s just say that were I younger, I’d already be suggesting a repeat performance.”

“I’m honestly not used to, ah, being like that. But I think I could learn.” He scooted closer. “We’ll have to try again. Practice makes perfect, and all that.”

Garak wasn’t sure how much more perfect it could get. But he was willing to give it a go.

**Author's Note:**

> The Cardassian anatomy belongs to Tinsnip.


End file.
